Author's Notes: Short update, sorry folks. It's been crazy at work lately. Bare with me, please.
Chapter Three:
Ginny knew it was going to be hard.
Hell, she had only gone over the situation in her mind time and time again for the past weeks. And every scenario she had thought of, every situation that had gone through her mind, had ended with the knowledge that no matter how she tried to change the situation, no matter how hard she tried, it was always be hard.
It was not even so much the fact that Harry broke up with her-- she didn't care much about that because she knew that sooner or later they would be back together. She opted for sooner rather than later, of course, but she had waited years for him, what was one more? Two? Maybe even five. She could wait, she knew, she had long since made up her mind that she could handle whatever was thrown her way. She would have to-- she knew that too.
What hurt the most was that she had to stand by and watch as somebody she cared so deeply for was hurting. What hurt was she had to stand by and watch knowing that if the situation were different she could help him, she could be there for him. But she couldn't. He didn't want her there-- and even if he did he was held back from saying so because of some stupid noble cause.
If Harry Potter, all green eyes and jet black hair, was anything it was noble. Ideally so, and she hated it. Hated it with every bone in her body. Hated it because if it were not for his damned nobility they would be together, they would be happy, and she would not be so miserable. He would not be so miserable, she was sure of it.
They would not have to sit in the kitchen and peel the bloody potatoes as an excuse to spend time together without rising any suspicion.
So, to alienate herself from the undeniable awkwardness between them and the pain in her heart that just seemed to follow her whenever he was around, when Harry, the twins, and Ron decided to go and play quidditch, she stayed behind. Sat on the stairs outside of the kitchen, an extendable ear next to her own and waited as her parents had what was sure to be the most important conversation concerning her to date.
Night grew older and darkness dimmed as a result almost as if life was laughing at her in some cruel and unusual way, Harry decided to pick that exact moment to walk right on up to the house. With his broom swung over his shoulder, and his skin sheen with a thin layer of sweat, Ginny could not even begin to ignore just how good he looked.
Ginny nearly groaned at the sight, but swallowed it almost immediately.
He gave her a slight grin that looked uncomfortable and surprised both. She returned it in stride, the extendable ear falling from the door and into her lap. "Hey."
Harry nodded his acknowledgement and didn't dare move a step closer-- which, Ginny figures, was probably a good thing. The two of them combined with physical closeness made for eventual circumstances that could lead to some very, very bad outcomes.
"What are you doing?" He nodded over her shoulder towards the kitchen.
"They are discussing," Ginny began with a high amount of distaste, "the possible future of my education."
"Your mum didn't look to happy about that announcement."
Ginny snorted in the most unladylike manner, "My mum hasn't been happy all summer."
Harry grinned that full-blown grin that made her hear do back flips, "I've heard. Apparently your rows have moved straight into the infamous category."
Ginny smiled back softly, "I think George used the word legendary, actually."
"Was there any chance he was embellishing just a tad bit?"
Ginny pretended to consider it for a moment before answering, "Not really. No."
The eventual point where Harry would either have to step closer or walk away came, almost too soon in her opinion, and even with the vaguest of steps she felt her pulse rate pick up immediately. Ginny wanted to reach out for him. Touch him-- as innocently as possible-- and a strangling feeling in her heart took hold of her when she realized she could not do that. She had known it, of course, but for some reason it took that very moment for it to finally hit.
It made her irrationally sad, that thought, realizing she should have worked harder to come to terms with it before he got here.
"I'm surprised," Harry began somewhat cautiously, clearing his throat, "that your parents are so worried about you going back… I mean, they seem the least likely ones to jump on that bandwagon."
"Everyone likes to pretend they didn't hear Ron when he announced he wasn't going back," Harry avoided her eyes when she said that, and she did not pretend to not know why, "but they did. It's put everyone on edge… I think they're afraid that I can't take care of myself."
Harry smirked that beautiful smirk of his, "which is absolutely bonkers, right?"
Ginny grinned impishly, "Of course. I grew up with six brothers and two-- Merlin love them-- rather crazy parents. You'd think they would realize I can more than handle myself."
"That's just what parents do, I guess."
The smile was there on his face, but Ginny could see the emotion behind it was anything less than humor. An awkward silence fell between them, the air around them growing tenser as the atmosphere sort of became stifling within the next few moments. It was odd, Ginny found in spite of herself, that in the past they had been able to talk about anything and the silences in between were comfortable. Sought out.
Now they were tense and awkward and she just added to another thing on her list of things she hated.
"Look Ginny…" he trailed off just as suddenly as he started and Ginny could immediately see what the next words were going to be out of his mouth without him having to say it.
It was as clear as day, and she knew better than else that Harry, for all his nobility and boyish charm that she loved dearly, could not live with a guilty conscience. She waved him off before he even got to continue. Tried to smile genially, but knew like the one he had tried to pass off before, it was only forced and fake.
"Don't," Ginny said, voice quiet and seeming to echo throughout the night, "let's just not, okay?"
"I don't want you to think--"
"I don't," she assured him, the small smile she offered beginning to feel less fake, "I never would."
Of course she didn't. Of course she didn't think he was intentionally trying to hurt her-- which, Ginny knew, was what he was going to say. He felt guilty, she also knew. It was written all over him, in his face, his stance, the way his shoulders slumped even more than ever before. He feels guilty, and he shouldn't, but Ginny cannot help but want him to-- just the littlest, tiniest bit. All because she was hurting, and that selfish, miserable part of her wanted him to hurt too.
Even though she knew he was and for reasons that were a lot more important than their pending romance.
She wants to say more. She wants to say she misses him, that she misses them, but she knows deep down doing so would only cause more awkwardness and more pain-- two things, miraculously, they have an abundance of already.
"Oi!" George's voice broke through the hazing and uncomfortable silence, breaking their thoughts and cutting through the tension between them, "Harry, get your arse back here with our water!"
Harry gave her an apologetic smile, his face a mask of so many emotions she couldn't decipher between them all-- or even begin to try. He looks like she supposes she did minutes earlier, like he wanted to say something, like what he had to say was burning the tip of his tongue, but not so surprisingly he does not say it. He says nothing, just stands there with his broom swung over his shoulder looking as sexy as she's ever seen him and uncomfortable as ever.
"Go," Ginny urged, her voice sounding less like her own.
And just like that, just that suddenly he was gone again. Trudging off in the opposite direction waterless and his shoulders slumped even more than before.
It was hard, just as she imagined it would be, watching him go. But Ginny had lately come to terms with the fact that the situation, no matter what way it was destined to work out, was probably always going to just keep getting harder.
With a haggard sigh she pulled the extendable ear and placed it carefully on the door. She had more important things to worry about. Things that needed her full and undivided attention.
Especially since as soon as her ear was flush against the door it swung open, causing her to fall forward and half way into the kitchen. And there her mother and father stood, looking older beyond their years and more forlorn than they ever had before.
"Your mother and I have reached a decision," her father said, looking gray around the temples and as tired as he had for weeks.
With a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, Ginny stood and knew somehow she was not going to like what she was about to hear.
Throwing a fleeting look over her shoulder, where she could almost fondly imagine Harry flying through the night skies with ease and confidence that suited him so well, Ginny followed her parents inside.
(TBC)